


Pours From Your Eyes.Spills From Your Skin

by Sanguis



Series: Thunder from the Skies. Hail of Burning Ice [2]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dark!Thor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 10:34:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2809223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanguis/pseuds/Sanguis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ragnarök does not rest in Loki’s bones, nor smile with his lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pours From Your Eyes.Spills From Your Skin

Asgard shivers in its Eternal Summer; an ice-witch walks in their hall dressed as a King. _“Consort,_ ” they remind themselves, but in Loki’s smiles they too often see power, wielded glibly and gleefully.

Frigga is the curbing touch to Thor’s wild magic, to Loki’s sharp and brewing storms. She loves them with a ferocity that is nearly perilous.

She had not meant to love Loki so, but he is beautiful, wily, terrible. She’s seen his hurts fester, has tended to his wounds, has tempered his fury. She has washed blood off of his and Thor’s hair, and watched them run again, fae-like in the light of dusk.

“The end of times has come to us,” Nobles mutter. “It has shown its face and will spread its destruction from the heart of the realm.” They see it in the caresses between their King and his consort, hear it in their footsteps as they walk the halls. Asgard has always had long shadows, a product of the ever-burning sun.

.

Frigga has seen Ragnarök. It does not rest in Loki’s bones, nor smile with his lips.

.

Odin does not sleep forever.

Frigga is with him when he wakes from his slumber. He smiles grimly and asks for Thor, but she merely shakes her head. Thor has taken to the skies, to the stars and the unending blackness of space. Loki is his northern star.

The All-father says nothing, but in his eyes, Frigga glimpses the understanding he had neglected many years ago – bringing Loki as a war-prize will not mean he stays such.

.

They walk hand in hand in the forests of Vanaheimr.

“Sváss,” they call each other.

.

Thor is freer when he has no throne to feel responsible for. He can let Loki bruise him again without others worrying for his health. And Loki – always so thin, with so many sharp angles, and strength much greater than it seems. Loki is hungry for hearts, and not the animal kind; hearts keep the coldness in his heart unmoving, and the veins of gold calling for Thor’s kisses.

They’re a tempest passing through realms, coming down from stars. Freyr laughs with delight when he sees them, whispers to his sister that “Odin could not have foreseen this.”

“Thor is much more powerful this way,” Freyja answers, smiling.

.

They grow more.

Not taller or wider, but vaster. They fill empty spaces with their presence, leave trails of gathered stardust – sometimes blood too; ‘tis easy to rouse their bloodlust. Thor is not a berserk-king, but Loki wants his payments red and warm. “When they ask for favours,” He says as he kisses Thor. There’s so much blood covering them, and he can _taste it_. “I want them to think about what they ask.”

Eating hearts is Loki’s business, but Thor knows the taste of it intimately. He sometimes wonders what it would taste like roasted – if it tastes like boar.

Their bodies rock on the beat of rhythm only they can hear.

.

Their return to Asgard is quiet, hidden in whispers and a shroud of darkness. Odin does not hear of it until he asks Heimdall if he can see “my sons”, and expecting the question to be yet again futile, barely hears the answer.

“In the gardens of Fensalir.”

.

Frigga tells them Odin approaches.

Even so, they can do little when Odin takes Thor and binds his powers indefinitely. 

.

Loki flees.

He leaves a trail of blood as proof; it flows from the nexus of Bifröst to the golden halls around Hliðskjálf. The stench of blood and rot remains for days, and Frigga often sees the heart that Loki had left behind on the seat. It had still been warm, and stuttered a few pulses.

She sighs, and waits.

**Author's Note:**

> It appears my Halloween blurb of last year has a companion now. I'm actually surprised for once.


End file.
